My late uncle was a longtime basketball coach. He actually helped coach Andre Iguodala when Andre was in high school in Springfield, IL. For those ignorant of professional basketball, Andre was NBA Finals MVP one year and shut down (which means defended well) LeBron James.
My uncle was also a bit of a bulldog as an insurance agent. I got to see him in his element once when we filed a claim for a house fire (I’ll tell that one soon). He wanted to make sure his clients were taken care of, and if you weren’t willing to make that happen, you would meet his wrath.
I played basketball for my uncle a couple summers. He was very strict, but he was very good. If you’re ever read about gravitas, he had it. He’s probably the person I think about when I consider gravitas as a concept. A person has gravitas when you find yourself being automatically respectful to that person. They say “Jump,” you say, “How high?”
Let me set the stage for you a little bit with regards to travel basketball. I played on a team, but our “organization” had a team for every grade level. As a result, and because there wasn’t much else to do between games, you would naturally go watch the other teams you knew who were playing when you weren’t. The games were typically played in large gymnasiums where multiple games were played at the same time. Pretty loud atmosphere.
Well, during one of the games in the two summers I played for Uncle Al, my team was really lacking in our effort. If we were playing poorly, no big deal; it happens. If we weren’t playing hard, we faced the bulldog. You did not want to face the bulldog.
The number of players trying their hardest was decreasing. The starters were on the bench, and the second string wasn’t looking very hot out there on the court. So, naturally, Uncle Al looked down the bench to see who he could put in. Seeing no one on our team, he came up with a scheme to prove something to all of us 8th graders.
“Troy! Get in the game!”
Troy was my younger brother (still is). He was sitting near the end of the bench, minding his own business. After all, it wasn’t his team playing. Unfortunately for the 6th grader, his jersey looked like everyone’s jersey on my team, and he had a different number than the rest of us.
What did Troy do? He got in the game. After what I assume was one of the more shocking moments in his young life, he went over to the scorer’s table and checked in. I’m sure hope flooded his heart when the referees came over and told my Uncle that Troy’s number wasn’t in the scorebook.
“We’ll take the technical. I want this player in the game.”
So, it did cost him two points to put Troy in the game, but I don’t think he was really concerned about winning that game. I think he wanted to win more games in the future.
My uncle died from cancer a few years ago. I wasn’t able to visit him, unfortunately, so I wrote him a note and reminded him of this story. He remembered it.
“Don’t forget it when you’re a coach,” he said. “Troy played hard that game. He was by far the smallest person on the court, but he played harder than the rest of them.”
Some lessons are worth going out of the way to teach. A short term “no” usually leads to long term obedience.
I think we played harder the rest of the summer, but I imagine Troy avoided being anywhere near the 8th grade bench as well.
Mr. Klunick Tutoring 